


Rebel Rebel

by lumpy jelly bean (chorus_fruit)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Ideas, Betrayal, Blood, Blood Drinking, Don't try this at home kids, Eventual Happy Ending, Gay Ford Pines, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Writer's Block, Motorcycles, Multi, Ow the Edge, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Aztec Religion & Lore, Scars, Science, Science Experiments, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Smoking, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Communication, Trans Character, Trust Issues, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Weddings, a lot of the vampire lore has been created/altered by me, disorganized crime, im using google maps and ive never been to oregon ok, like a character gets writer's block, most of the characters are probably chaotic neutral, old men still stuck in their rebellious teen years, semi-accurate depictions of Oregon geography, sorry this is a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-08-11 04:46:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chorus_fruit/pseuds/lumpy%20jelly%20bean
Summary: Leo Lyon's best friend of 12 years appears to have stabbed him in the back, and now he needs assistance from someone versed in the world of the paranormal. Lucky for him, a Mystery Shack employee volunteers herself and several of her friends. And though it may not be as bad as an apocalypse, it's definitely more than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> what the FUCK is up my dudes
> 
> im out here writing self insert fanfiction because its fun and i love ford and im gonna dab on all my haters!
> 
> (i wasnt being serious about the dabbing thing please dont take that seriously)
> 
> i have like 11,000 words of this written already, but who knows how fast updates will be because most of it is unedited word vomit and its not split into chapters so...we'll see how this goes
> 
> enjoy! or not, idc
> 
> (and before anyone asks, not that anyone is going to lmao, the title is a reference to a david bowie song)

“Leo, I swear to god, for the _millionth_ time, there aren’t any monsters in this section of the woods,” Booker St. Claire, long time friend of Leo Lyon, insisted, as she scouted out a good place for them to pitch their tent.

“But what if you’re wrong? Or what if one of them smells us from far away and decides to eat us in our sleep?” Leo said nervously, trailing closely behind Booker. He wasn’t normally this nervous about the monsters that resided in Gravity Falls, but staying overnight in the forest was an _entirely_ different story.

“Well, first of all, I _am_ wrong,” Booker said lightly, looking back at Leo just to see his reaction. His face contorted in a terrified cringe as though Booker was holding a knife, about to stab him through the stomach and leave him to bleed to death in the forest. Booker laughed. “You dummy, it’s me. I’m the monster. And besides, I’m not sleeping, remember? Vampires don’t usually sleep, and if we do, it’s during the day. So I’ll be up keeping watch the whole night. I won’t let anything eat you, I promise.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Leo exclaimed. “You really freaked me out for a second. Stop messing with me before I walk right out of here and go home.”

“I’m doing this for you!” Booker argued. “Not the messing with you part, just the camping part. What I’m _trying_ to say is that going home won’t benefit either of us.”

Leo sighed, knowing she was right.

The camping trip had been Booker’s suggestion. Leo was an author, most famous for a novel he published in 1999 entitled Myosotis. Though the success of the novel had granted him enough money to get by for quite a while, it wasn’t going to last forever. He’d started writing another book the summer before; but an event known as Weirdmageddon struck Gravity Falls, leading Leo into a several month long ailment known as writer’s block. Booker’s idea was simple: sleep a night under the stars to clear his head, lessen his anxiety from Weirdmageddon, and, hopefully, help him bounce back from his creative intermission.

So far, this trip was proving to _worsen_ his anxiety, not lessen it. And they hadn’t even found a spot to pitch their tent yet.

“How about this?” Booker peered into a clearing, surrounded by a lopsided circle of trees. The forest floor was covered with rotting leaves still present from autumn, and the ground looked even enough to sleep on comfortably. Leo supposed it was as good a spot as they were going to find.

“Looks pretty good,” Leo affirmed, walking into the center of the clearing and sliding his bag off his back. He set down the battery-powered lantern he’d been holding to light their way next to his bag on the ground. “I’ll pitch the tent if you get firewood.”

“I mean, yeah,” Booker said, standing on her toes to get a good view of the forest surrounding them. “I wasn’t expecting _you_ to collect the firewood, considering your normal human vision and normal human strength.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “You can accept the job without insulting me,” he said. “Just, go, please. I’d like to conserve the battery in this lantern if we can.”

“Holler if you need me!” Booker said, waving goodbye as she walked towards the line of trees. “And try not to get too scared without me, mmkay? Remember, I’m the only monster in this forest.”

She vanished into the darkness, leaving Leo alone to set up the tent by nothing but the lantern light (he’d use his phone flashlight, but he was opting to save that for emergencies to conserve battery life. There were no outlets in the middle of the woods).

It was a fairly easy process to set up the tent. It was new, and the instructions that had come with it were straightforward and included pictures of every step of the process that Leo was able to see by holding the paper up to the lantern. There was still time to kill before Booker returned, so Leo cleared a space for a fire pit and surrounded it with dirt-covered stones.

Leo hadn’t been camping in a _long_ time, probably around 30 years. He used to go with his parents, but his dad consistently complained about bug bites and so eventually they just...stopped. Leo hadn’t been camping since.

Soon, Booker returned, a large stack of firewood in her arms. To anyone who wasn’t familiar with superhuman strength, it would have been quite a site, but Leo had gotten used to seeing Booker carry much more than she looked like she’d be able to, so it didn’t rattle him any longer.

Booker dropped the wood carelessly onto the forest floor and wiped her hands on her jeans to get rid of the dirt that had accumulated on them. She placed her hands on her hips proudly, yellow light just barely illuminating her grin.

“That enough?” She asked, a tinge of sarcasm lacing her voice.

“We’ll only be out here for _one_ night. If we used all that up I’d be mildly concerned,” Leo replied. Booker let out a hearty laugh.

Together, the two of them started a fire and spread blankets on the ground to sit on. The fire cast eerie shadows through the trees, but Leo was no longer afraid of running into monsters, not with Booker watching out for him. Despite how much of a pain in the ass as she was, he trusted her.

They stayed up late, telling stories by the fire and breathing in the fresh air. By the time Leo was ready to crawl into the tent and fall asleep, he was already feeling less anxious and more ready to get back to writing.

“Do you have your stuff for when the sun comes up?” Leo asked, unrolling his sleeping bag and shoving it haphazardly inside the tent.

“Umbrella, sun hat, long sleeves. I’m good,” Booker replied.

“Don’t let me sleep too late,” Leo said. “I don’t want you to have to be out here in the daylight for too long.”

“I’ll try, but you’re a _heavy_ goddamn sleeper,” Booker said. “Just go to bed. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Leo exhaled loudly, offering Booker a quick smile before crawling into the tent and zipping it shut. He climbed into his sleeping bag, and, apparently not realizing how tired he’d been, fell asleep within minutes.

...

Only partially awake, Leo felt another body crawl into the tent beside him.

Slowly, gently, he felt one hand clasp his shoulder and another slide under his head. He was just barely awake enough to register what was happening. And then, abruptly, his eyes shot open and he was thrust into fight-or-flight mode.

A sharp pain, biting directly into his neck. Some sort of substance being forced through his veins. He struggled against his apparent attacker, focusing on escaping now and figuring out what was going on later. He was held down by what seemed like superhuman strength.

Blood ran down the side of his neck. Adrenaline kept him from feeling the full effects of the pain, but that wouldn’t last long. A whispery voice overtook his frantic thoughts.

“Shhh,” the voice shushed. Leo couldn’t quite tell who it was over his heart pounding in his ears, but they definitely sounded disturbingly familiar. “It’s okay. I know it hurts. But it’s going to be okay.”

A thought popped into Leo’s head. A morbid thought. Booker had _promised_ she would watch out for monsters and the like during the night. And if Leo was being attacked, that meant one of three things: whoever his attacker was had managed to sneak past Booker, his attacker had already hurt Booker, or Booker _was_ his attacker.

Leo opened his mouth, a scream rising in his throat. He barely got a noise out before one of his attacker’s hands clamped over his mouth.

The attacker began mildly shushing him in the same tone of voice that a mother would use with a newborn. “Calm down. Struggling will make it worse. Breath deeply.”

Leo still couldn’t make out the voice.

Pain broke through the adrenaline, coursing through his veins like acid. He screamed against the hand covering his mouth, but the grip remained strong. His muscles began to seize up, and it was becoming more difficult to struggle.

The voice of his attacker reached him again; this time it was clearer, louder.

“God, _what_ did I tell you? You’d be in less pain if you’d just stopped struggling when I advised you to. Then again, you were never very good at paying attention.”

Leo stopped, for two reasons: his muscles had frozen, and he knew who his attacker was.

It was Booker.

All the details of the attack suddenly molded together in his head. The biting pain in his neck. The substance injected into his veins. The adverse reaction.

Before he could complete his thought, he blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker appears to have fled the scene, and Leo isn't quite sure what to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while trying to figure out where id stop this chapter i ended up with a 6,000+ word chapter. i shortened it because that's kind of ridiculous.
> 
> also im trying not to update too fast because eventually i'm gonna catch up to myself and not have any more pre-written chapters at my disposal, but we'll see how that goes. i'm impatient.
> 
> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway enjoy!

The noise of a woodpecker loudly drilling into a tree outside the tent woke Leo from his slumber. His head was pounding, his muscles stiff. The events from last night came rushing back to him like a tsunami, and he was finally able to finish that thought he’d begun to have before he blacked out.

Booker had turned him into a vampire.

He groaned aloud, partially from the pain and partially from the realizations washing over him. He didn’t dislike vampires, but he had never wanted to _be_ one. No more food with garlic. No more sunbathing. He’d have to get rid of his sterling silver earrings. And, at the moment, he wouldn’t even be able to enter his own home; there was a crucifix hanging on the wall in the living room, a housewarming gift from his parents. Whenever Booker visited, he had to take it down and shove it in his closet. Not to mention the immortality and dependency on blood-sucking.

He didn’t need to worry about that, though. There were more pressing matters to fret over.

First off, the sun had risen, meaning he couldn’t safely exit the tent. There was a small chance his sensitivity to sunlight wouldn’t have developed yet, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Secondly, there was a possibility Booker was sitting on one of the blankets outside, holding her umbrella above her head, wearing her sweater and sun hat, waiting for him to wake up, and that was a confrontation he didn’t want to have to deal with immediately. Thirdly, there was a possibility that Booker _wasn’t_ there, and that idea was slightly more terrifying.

Lastly, though the wound on his neck had scabbed over, it had done so while he’d been lying in an awkward position; he was scared that if he moved, it would reopen and start bleeding everywhere.

The obvious solution to all of these problems was to stay put, but Leo had never been terribly good at that.

He propped himself up on his elbows, carefully shifting in an attempt to keep the scabs on his neck from breaking. He felt sticky all over, both from the pool of dried blood he’d been unconscious in and the residue lingering from his sweat.

He pushed himself carefully to a seated position, wincing from the pain in his aching muscles and the sudden stinging of the scabs on his neck. He brought two fingers up to the wound and immediately felt thick, wet blood.

“Great, thanks,” Leo voiced sarcastically. He glanced around the tent quickly for something he could use to soak up the blood. The only options appeared to be the clothes he was wearing and the sleeping bag spread on the ground. The sleeping bag was too bulky to be of much help, so he grabbed the edge of his tee-shirt and held it to the injury, hoping the material would be thick enough for the time being (and also that it wouldn’t stain too badly; this was one of his favorite shirts).

Leo paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans with his free hand. The time read 7:15 AM, and in the top left corner where it usually showed how many bars were available (which wasn’t many in Gravity Falls), there was a menacing little line of text indicating that he had no service.

His only two options at this point were to wait in the tent for fourteen hours until sunset, or to attempt to exit and hope for the best.

He mulled it over for a few minutes in his head, absentmindedly opening an addictive phone game that didn’t require WiFi or data to play. The clocked ticked forward: 7:16, 7:17, 7:18…

Too tired to panic but too afraid to not care, Leo’s head snapped forward upon hearing some rustling leaves, a _thump_ , several wooden objects clattering against the dirt, and a high-pitched voice exclaiming the words _aw, crap_.

The voice didn’t belong to Booker, that was for sure. Perhaps the owner of this voice could be of some assistance?

“W-who’s there?” Leo tried to raise his voice, but it came out weak and hoarse. He cleared his throat and repeated himself. “Who’s there?!”

“Sorry, sorry!” The high-pitched voice apologized. “I didn’t realize there was someone camping out here. I’ll clean up my stuff and get out of your hair, I promise!”

Leo hesitated for a moment, wondering what he should say. The owner of the voice began to audibly pick up whatever wooden objects they’d dropped. He had a few moments before they’d turn around and leave, but he needed to think of what he was going to say, and _fast_.

“No!” Leo exclaimed suddenly. _Smooth_ , he thought sarcastically. “I mean, don’t go! I think I’m in danger and I need help.”

“Wh...danger?” The voice questioned. They stopped picking up the wooden objects. “What kind of danger? Are you the only one in that tent? Am I in danger just by being out here?!”

“Supernatural danger, yes, and no,” Leo answered. “Well, that last one is debatable. It doesn't matter. Look, this is hard to explain, but if I leave this tent there’s a good chance I’m going to get severely hurt. There’s a small chance I’m _not_ , but I’d really rather not risk it.”

“Is it okay if I come closer? Like, will anything bad happen to me?” The voice said.

“You’re good,” Leo replied.

“Cool.” Soft footsteps came towards the entrance of the tent. The voice was much closer the next time Leo heard it, and much lower to the ground, implying the owner of it had knelt or sat down on the dirt.

“Okay,” the voice said breathily, “are you safe so long as you’re inside the tent?”

“Most likely, yes,” Leo replied.

“Cool. Let’s do introductions, then,” the voice continued. “I’m Melody. And you?”

“Leo,” Leo said.

“Awesome. Have you lived in Gravity Falls for a while or are you just visiting?”

“I think twelve years could be considered a while,” Leo remarked. “I’m not sure I know who you are, and I know most of the people who live here by name. Did you move in recently?”

“Sure did!” Melody said cheerily. “You probably know my fiance. He’s Mister Mystery himself, also known as Soos Ramirez! I moved into the Mystery Shack after he took over, to help him out while the Pines family was gone.”

“Oh!” Leo exclaimed. “I totally know who you are. I’ve just never been told your name. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise!” Melody said. “Back to the topic of whatever danger you’re in, could you tell me what’ll happen if you leave the tent?”

“Well, there’s no guarantee, but there’s a good chance that I’ll burn in the sunlight.”

“Okay, I’m incredibly curious, but I’ll save the questions for later,” Melody said. “Would you be willing to test it? Like, just stick a finger into the sunlight and if it burns you can pull it right back into the tent?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Leo said. “I’m gonna do that.”

Carefully, Leo unzipped the tent, just enough to stick his hand out. Impulsively, he stuck his entire hand out of the tent, palm down. Immediately, he felt regretful. Melody’s shocked gasp was accompanied by an almost cartoonish sizzle and hot, searing pain.

He pulled his hand back into the tent and out of the sunlight.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath. “That hurt.”

“That looked terrible!” Melody exclaimed. “You okay?”

The back of his hand was bright red and covered in blisters. It was kind of shocking to know that only a few seconds of exposure to sunlight had done that to him. Booker had frequently talked about how bad the burns were, but she was always incredibly careful, and Leo had never actually seen her get burned.

“I mean, I’m burned,” Leo responded. “But I’m _okay_ , yes. Great? No. But definitely okay.”

“Hm.” Melody went silent for a moment. “I think the best thing I could do to help you right now is get you back to the Mystery Shack. Both Mister Pineses are there, and Dipper and Mabel are arriving later today. If anyone around here can help you, it’s them.”

“I don’t see how we’re going to transport me anywhere,” Leo said. Booker’s sun protection always involved covering up every possible inch of her skin, wearing a sun hat, and holding an umbrella. Leo was currently clothed in a tee-shirt and ripped skinny jeans, and all the hats he owned, which totaled to two, were back at his duplex, on the opposite edge of town.

“Soos has a pickup truck. I can call him and ask him to cover up the back windows and we can drive there,” Melody said. “The only issue with that is that we’re kind of in the middle of the woods, but he’s a creative guy, so I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to get to us.”

“That’s a good idea, but there’s no service out here. How will you call him?” Leo questioned.

“One of the benefits of dating Soos is that he thinks of _everything_ ,” Melody said. “We both keep walkie-talkies on us most of the time. In case of emergencies and also just because it’s fun.”

“Wow,” Leo said, in awe. “Impressive. Go ahead then. Call him.”

A second of silence. _Blip. Kssshhhh_. The signature noise of most walkie-talkies.

“Jesús Alzamirano Ramirez, this is your conscience speaking to you, over,” Melody spoke in an exaggerated, deep voice.

_Bloop. Kssshhhh_. “C’mon Melody, I totally know it's you, dog! Over,” the reply came almost instantly.

_Blip. Kssshhhh_. “You caught me!” Melody exclaimed. “Listen. I need your help. Could you cover up the back windows of your truck so that sunlight can't get through and meet me…well, I don't know the _exact_ location but I'm kind of near the road leading out of town, over by the cliffs, y’know? Over.”

_Bloop. Kssshhhh_. “In the woods? Are you more north or more south? Over.”

_Blip. Kssshhhh_. “North, I think, over.”

_Bloop. Kssshhhh_. “Awesome. I'll be there as soon as I can, dude! Over!”

“He should be here soon!” Melody diverted her attention back to Leo.

“Just like that? No questions asked?” Leo said.

“He’s been asked to do weirder,” Melody explained. “Mostly back when Mister Pines was his boss.”

“Mmkay, not even gonna ask,” Leo said. “By the way, not to be rude, but what’re you even doing out here in the woods, anyway? I’m not complaining, because if you hadn’t come along I’d be much worse off, I’m just curious.”

“I was putting some signs up,” Melody replied casually. “Advertisements for the Mystery Shack and all that. Personally, I don’t find it very practical to advertise in the middle of the woods, but Soos is convinced it could coerce Slenderman into visiting.”

Leo snorted. He’d come into contact with many, _many_ supernatural creatures during his time in Gravity Falls, but Slenderman hadn’t been one of them. However, he didn’t doubt that the entity existed somewhere in the forest, unseen by mortal eyes.

(Whether or not he existed in _this_ part of the forest was debatable, however. Booker had clearly stated that there weren’t any monsters in this part of the woods. Then again, she wasn’t to be trusted at the moment).

“I’m sure if the signs managed to be successful that you’d really drum up business,” Leo said. “Slenderman could be a high-paying attraction.”

“Oh, definitely,” Melody said. “ _If_ we could manage to capture him and live to tell the tale, that is.”

She let out a giggle. Leo couldn’t help but smile. Even though he’d only known Melody for five minutes, he already felt incredibly comfortable around her.

However, the initial shock of waking up and meeting Melody had come to a slow, and the pounding in his head was becoming more and more severe every second. He tried to blink away the blurriness of his vision; he didn’t want to pass out before Soos even arrived. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay upright.

Melody’s chatter faded into background noise as Leo focused on staying awake. He carelessly shoved his phone in his pocket, and his hands fell to his sides. All he could focus on was keeping his eyes open, but there were black spots forming in his vision, and god, falling asleep seemed like such a good idea…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo meets the Stan twins.

He didn’t even realize he’d passed out until he woke up.

He was obviously in some sort of moving vehicle—most likely Soos’ truck. It was fairly dark and fairly warm. He took a moment to process what was going on before doing anything else.

He was in a cumbersome position. Whoever had put him here had taken great care to sit him up and put the seatbelt on him, but inevitably, as he was unconscious when it had happened, he had been unable to keep himself upright and was now leaning against the shoulder belt. The reason it was dark and warm was that the windows were covered by some kind of thick cloth material. Every time the vehicle went over a bump in the road, there was a distinct rattling noise that came from somewhere behind him.

Leo attempted to talk, but all he managed at first was a pained groan.

“You okay back there?” Melody’s voice hit his ears.

“M...Melody?” Leo managed to speak.

“That’s my name,” Melody said. “We’ll be at the Shack soon. Are you comfortable? Do you want me to turn on the radio? I’ve got some water if you—”

“I’m fine,” Leo interrupted. “I’m guessing your fiance is the one driving?”

“The one and only Soos, at your service!” A new voice, loud and friendly, sounded from the driver’s seat. “Leo, right? Nice to meet you, dog. Do you like the blanket fort I’ve got goin’ back there? I tried to make it as dark as I could.”

“It’s pretty cozy,” Leo said. “If you don’t mind me asking, what, uh, what about all my camping gear? Did you just leave it behind?”

“It’s all in the back!” Soos exclaimed. “Let’s see...there’s a tent, sleeping bag, some blankets, a backpack, a sweater, a sun hat, an umbrella…”

“Wait, sorry, say those last three things again?” Leo requested, suddenly much more alert.

“What, a sweater, a sun hat, and an umbrella?” Soos repeated.

“Those are…” Leo began, concerned. “Those are in the back of the truck? Right now? And you found them at the campsite when you came to get me?”

“Yeah…?” Melody replied, confused. “What’s up?”

“Something _really_ weird is going on here,” Leo said shakily, suddenly frantic. Those items were Booker’s sun protection. If she didn’t have them, and she wasn’t at the campsite, then where was she? Was she okay? What was going on?

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Melody softened her voice. “I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours right now, but I promise that the Pineses will be able to help you figure this out, okay? They’ve got a pretty good track record.”

“I just…” Leo began. “Sorry. I can’t explain this right now. It would take too much time. I should wait until we get to the Mystery Shack.”

“It’s your lucky day, then,” Soos said. “‘Cuz we’re here!”

The truck slowed to a stop, tires crunching against sandy dirt. Soos stopped the engine.

“I’m going to call Mister Pines and let him know we’re here,” Soos said. He spoke a few sentences to an unheard voice on the phone before hopping out of the truck, Melody quick to follow.

Footsteps sounded against the ground, and in a moment, the passenger’s side back door had been opened. Light poured into the truck, and Leo unbuckled the seatbelt, scooting backwards in fear of obtaining another burn.

One face and one torso peeked at Leo from outside the truck. The face, Leo assumed, belonged to Melody, and the torso to Soos. Melody had messy, honey-blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. Atop her head sat an ash brown baseball cap, and she was wearing a viridian-colored tee-shirt with a large question mark on the front. Her skin was light and warm-toned, and her cheeks had a charming pudge to them. Her appearance certainly fit her voice, though she’d not been quite what Leo had imagined, based on her voice alone. Though Leo couldn’t see Soos’ face, he took note of the white button-down shirt and formal black pants he was wearing.

“Can you walk?” Melody spoke. “Don’t feel pressured, we don’t want you to get hurt. But if you can, we could just grab you that umbrella and sun hat from the back and walk you in that way.”

“I think I can manage,” Leo said.

Soos and Melody fished the umbrella and sun hat out from the back of the truck, and together, they walked in the door of the Mystery Shack.

Soos softly shut the door behind them. They stood in a small entryway with a staircase leading up to the right. The walls were sepia-toned, and under Leo’s feet was worn, white oak flooring. There was an archway set into the wall across from where Leo was standing, though he couldn’t see what lied behind it, as two figures blocked the view.

These two, Leo figured, must’ve been the Pineses.

The one standing to Leo’s left was a heavy-set man with a bit of a slouch. He wore a white shirt underneath a brown jacket, and a pair of glasses with black frames were perched squarely on his large nose. His hair was silver, messy in a charming way, and partially covered by a navy blue beanie. It looked like it had previously been short and he was attempting to grow it out. He had fair skin, a scruffy bit of facial hair, and a mischievous glint in his brown eyes.

The one on the right looked nearly identical in facial structure, but the two of them were definitely very different. This one had darker gray hair with a streak of silver just barely noticeable behind his ears, and he obviously cared more about how it looked—it appeared thicker and more intentionally styled. He had the same glasses frames, except one of the lenses contained a miniscule crack. He was fairly brawny, and looked tall in comparison to the slouch of the other Pines. The tapered edge of a mangled scar peeked out from underneath the collar of his cherry red turtleneck.

Neither of them looked happy, but the expressions they bore weren’t that of displeasure, either. They seemed...concerned.

“This the guy?” The one on Leo’s left spoke in the gruff voice of someone who’d likely smoked for years.

“I’m ‘the guy’, yes,” Leo said, making air-quotes with his uninjured hand.

“We understand you’re in some type of supernatural danger,” the one on Leo’s right spoke with a pleasant, though modulated, voice.

“Show them your hand,” Melody loudly whispered. Leo held up the back of his right hand towards the Pineses, pointing at it with the index finger of his left.

“The sun did that,” he said simply. “Before we get any further, can we do introductions? I’m Leo. I know you’re the Pineses, but I don’t know which is which.”

“Stanley and Stanford,” the one on the right said, pointing to each of them respectively.

“Call me Stan and him Ford, else it gets confusing,” Stanley said. “Leo, eh? Nice to meet ya. Let’s head into the living room and you can tell us what’s up. We’re kind of paranormal experts, so whatever’s going on, I’m sure we can help.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb,” Ford began, following Stan through the archway behind them into the living room, “and guess that we’re dealing with a vampire bite, just based on the burn and that wound on his neck alone.”

“You’d be correct,” Leo confirmed, trailing behind them. “There’s...there’s a story here. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Well,” Ford began, “we’ve got two hours before we have any obligations, so there’s time to figure that out.”

Stan lead them to the back of the room, where there was a roughly finished walnut table lit by a large, intricate lamp suspended from the ceiling by metal chains. It was surrounded by four very old metal chairs with yellow cushions. Leo immediately sat down and leaned forward onto the table, feet planted firmly on the floor.

“Hey, Leo?” Melody said, lingering a few feet away as the Stan twins took their spots at the table.

“Something up?” Leo asked.

“We’ve got to go open up the gift shop,” Melody said, gesturing towards Soos, who stood next to her. “Will you be okay?”

Leo made a dismissive motion. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“He’s in good hands!” Stan exclaimed. Ford side-eyed him.

“Debatable,” he said under his breath. Leo pretended to ignore that remark.

“Go ahead and do your thing,” Leo reassured. “I’ll fill you in on my story later.”

“Okay,” Melody said slowly. “See you!”

She left the room with Soos. Now it was just Leo and the Stan twins.

“How about you just start by telling us about how you ended up in this situation?” Ford said, lacing his fingers together atop the table. Leo eyed them for a moment. There was something weird about them, but he couldn’t figure it out.

“See, that’s the problem,” Leo said, trying very hard not to let Ford’s hands be distracting. “Telling you that requires background, and I just...don’t even know where to start with that.”

“Just start sayin’ stuff and we’ll butt in with questions if we get confused,” Stan said.

Leo glanced up at Stan’s face. He wasn’t smiling, but his expression was warm all the same.

He could do this. Telling stories was one of the things he did best.

“So, I was on this camping trip with my friend Booker,” he began. “She convinced me to spend a night under the stars to help with my writer’s block. She’s a vampire, and I’ve known pretty much from the moment I met her twelve years ago, though she didn’t formally tell me until around a year later. Not important. Anyway. I was on a camping trip with her. And vampires don’t usually sleep, so she was staying up and keeping watch outside the tent.”

Leo bounced his leg nervously. It began to shake the table, so he leaned back in his chair. He glanced at Ford’s hands every few seconds, trying to detangle what was weird about them.

“In the middle of the night, she bit me,” Leo continued. “I have no idea why she did it. She’s never expressed interest in turning me or even feeding off me before, because she knew I wasn’t cool with it. She _did_ make a remark earlier in the night about me being a heavy sleeper, so perhaps she’d intended to do it without waking me up. Anyway, I passed out, and when I woke up, she was nowhere to be found. I was scared to leave the tent because of the whole sun thing. If Melody hadn’t found me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Can I see your burn?” Ford asked cautiously. Leo placed his hand on the table in front of Ford, and, upon noticing that his leg bouncing was wiggling it again, stopped bouncing and took to drumming the fingers of his other hand on his thigh instead.

Ford gently took Leo’s hand in both of his, careful not to touch the burn. Immediately, Leo’s brain managed to solve the puzzle about his hands.

“I figured it out,” Leo said under his breath.

“Wazzat?” Stan asked. Apparently, Ford was too engrossed by his burn to notice that anything had been spoken.

“Sorry, just, I figured it out,” Leo said. “He has six fingers.”

Stan and Ford chuckled simultaneously. “Took ya long enough,” Stan said.

“It’s a second degree burn,” Ford remarked. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how well conventional treatments for this sort of injury will work on a vampire.”

“Well, vampires have enhanced healing powers,” Leo said, “but clearly, I haven’t developed those yet. In all honesty I think we should just treat it like any other burn until I can heal it up myself.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Stan said.

Leo withdrew his hand from Ford’s. “I should also mention that I’m kind of concerned about Booker.”

“Your vampire friend?” Stan asked. “Why?”

“The umbrella and sun hat I used to get in here without being burned more belong to her,” Leo explained. “I have no idea where she is, and she doesn’t have her sun protection. I think something weird is going on.”

“You said she turned you in the middle of the night, correct?” Ford questioned. “She could’ve been afraid of how you’d react and gone somewhere she knew you wouldn’t be able to find her.”

“No, that’s not what happened,” Leo said. “I mean, I don’t _think_ that’s what happened. I just...have this feeling that something strange happened after she turned me last night. I know it sounds crazy, but this whole situation is kind of crazy, isn’t it?”

Ford exhaled loudly. “There's not a whole lot we can do about that at the moment, I'm afraid. Right now we should focus on taking care of that burn. Under usual circumstances I’d advise you go to the emergency room, but the nearest one is twenty minutes out of town and these _aren’t_ usual circumstances, so I’m going to do my best to treat it with the resources available to me.”

“Thank you,” Leo said.

Ford stood up, adjusting his glasses with two fingers. “Stanley, would you mind fishing around for some gauze and antibacterial ointment while we head to the kitchen and run cool water over Leo’s hand?”

“There’s some upstairs,” Stan said. “I’ll grab it and be back in a jiffy.”

He stood up as well, and began to head off towards the staircase. “Not compression bandages! Just gauze and maybe medical tape!” Ford called after him. “And antibacterial spray would also be acceptable!”

“Got it, got it,” Stan replied, not bothering to turn around. Ford made his way around the table, gesturing for Leo to follow him.

They walked back through the living room, past the staircase that Stan was walking up with creaky footsteps, and into the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ends at a bit of a weird spot but just go with mmkay


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stans help Leo tend to his burn, and Booker makes contact.

The kitchen was immediately questionable. It smelled vaguely of something sweet that had been burnt, but not recently. Every appliance was incredibly outdated and looked like a fire hazard. The floor was made from the same white oak as the other rooms, and the walls were covered in pale, pine tree-patterned wallpaper. Appropriate.

Ford walked to the back of the room and sat down at the table there. “Run the back of your hand under cool—not cold, _cool_ —water. If it’s too cold, that could just make it worse. While you’re doing that, is it okay if I ask a few questions? I’m not as familiar with vampirism as some of the other oddities from this universe, but you’ve been friends with one for a considerable number of years, it sounds like, so I’d like to gather as much information as I can.”

“That’s cool,” Leo said. He migrated from the doorway to the sink on the left side of the room and turned it on, using his left, unburned hand to find a good temperature before carefully sticking his burned hand underneath the running water.

It stung, and he winced, but within a few moments he had grown used to the sensation.

“So, Booker has been living here a long time, correct?” Ford asked. Leo leaned his hip against the wooden counter the sink was suspended on and looked at him. He was holding a black pen in his right hand, and he clicked it a few times with his thumb before dropping the tip to a scrap piece of lined paper he’d set on the table, apparently ready to take notes.

“I don’t have it in exact years, but yeah,” Leo answered. “She was turned in the early twentieth century and at some point decided to move here to avoid picking fights with hunters. I met her twelve years ago when I arrived here, but she’s definitely lived here longer than that.”

Ford’s pen scratched on the paper as he wrote everything down. “Does she have a last name?”

“Well, she tells me her last name is Saint Claire,” Leo said. “But I have a feeling she’s changed her name in the past to avoid suspicion. People don’t just live through the majority of the nineteen-hundreds and into the two-thousands without aging, unless something’s weird about them, like they’re a vampire, for example. If she kept her original name, I assume that’d make it incredibly easy for hunters to find her.”

“Got it, got it,” Ford said, nodding. He continued to write. After a moment, he asked another question. “Is there anything else significant I should know about you or Booker before I start asking more general questions?”

“We live in the same building,” Leo said. “A duplex, kind of on the outskirts of town. I’m on the upper floor, her on the lower. If it hadn’t been for that, I probably would never have met her. I seem to be the only friend she has.”

“Mm-hm,” Ford mumbled, writing once again. As he wrote, Stan popped into the kitchen, a bright red first-aid box in hand. He dumped it on the table, unlatched it, and opened it. Ford paid no attention at first, but Leo noticed right away that the kit wasn’t properly stocked, and that all of the items that were there were obviously in desperate need of replacing.

After he finished writing, Ford looked up at his brother, and then at the first-aid kit. Instantly, he sighed.

“Stanley, what is this?” He asked, gesturing to the box.

“I told you there was some upstairs. I didn’t give you any more details,” Stan defended himself. He crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s gauze, tape, and antibacterial stuff in here. That’s all you asked for.”

Ford rubbed his eyes under his glasses with a finger and thumb. “Fine. It’ll have to do.”

He stood, and began shuffling around in the kit. “You should leave your hand under there for another two minutes at least,” he warned.

“Mmkay,” Leo hummed. Ford selected a few objects out of the kit and set them down on the table before returning to his seat and picking the pen back up. Stan sat across from him.

“Alright, vampirism,” Ford began. “Act like I don’t know anything about vampires. Explain them to me.”

“They’re...hm…” Leo rubbed his chin with his free hand in thought. “Creatures who gain energy by drinking blood. They use fangs to puncture the skin of their victims and then suck the blood out through the wound it creates. The blood gives them energy, and they can’t starve because there’s only one way they can be killed. Animal blood works, but human blood sustains them better. They don’t usually sleep, and they don’t age, either.”

“I didn’t know the sleeping thing,” Stan popped in. “I just thought they all slept during the day.”

“There are a lot of misconceptions about vampires,” Leo said. “Like the whole ‘they always go for the neck’ thing. As long as there’s a substantially sized vein it’ll work, so wrists are also common options. However, in order to _turn_ someone into a vampire, they _do_ have to go for the neck in order for the venom to spread properly.”

“Venom?” Ford asked, momentarily pausing his writing.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “How else do you think they get turned? Vampires produce venom. It’s very potent, and only a few drops in an open neck wound will completely transform a person. Fortunately, they can control when the venom is produced, so they don’t turn every single person they happen to bite in the neck.”

“How does it work?” Stan asked. “Like, do they have glands, like snakes?”

“I think so,” Leo said. “I dunno. I never got into the science of it with Booker. All I know is that the venom coats their fangs so that when they bite their victim it gets into their bloodstream.”

“We’ll continue in a moment,” Ford said, setting his pen down once again. “It’s been long enough. Gently—and I do mean _gently_ —pat your hand dry, and then we can dress the burn.”

“Geez, you’re sure acting like I’m not going to follow directions,” Leo said, turning off the faucet and _gently_ patting the burn dry with a paper towel. “You just met me. You have no evidence of how well I follow directions. And I’m pretty shit at it to be honest, but you don’t _know_ that.”

“I’m used to treating the wounds of a guy who insists that rubbing dirt in it and walking it off will actually work when the wound in question requires stitches,” Ford said, side-eyeing Stan as he spoke.

“Hey, medical supplies and hospital bills are goddamn expensive,” Stan defended himself. He tried to hide it, but Leo noticed the corner of Ford’s mouth twitch in the playful beginnings of a smile.

Leo tossed the paper towel in the trash and drifted over to the table. Ford grabbed a tube of antibacterial ointment that had been resting nearby, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to Leo. “Put some of that on the burn. More than you think you need.”

Leo squeezed some out, directly onto his burn, and spread it evenly over the injury. Surprisingly, it didn’t sting as much as the water had initially.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His phone didn’t usually buzz. He wasn’t active on social media, and the only people who ever called or texted him were scammers, his family, and Booker.

“Hang on,” he said, cleansing his fingers of the ointment with another paper towel. He retrieved his phone from his pocket, and looked to see who’d contacted him.

The name above the notification was Booker’s.

He froze, looking at the message on his lockscreen.

 **Booker**  
are you okay?

“Everything alright? You look kinda pale,” Stan observed.

“Shit, sorry,” Leo swore, squeezing his eyes tight for a second. He fluttered them back open, internally debating how to reply, if at all. “Booker just messaged me asking if I’m okay.”

“That’s good, right? You were worried about her,” Stan said. “If she can message you that means she’s not dead.”

“Y-yeah,” Leo stammered. “But I don’t know how to reply. I kind of feel betrayed. In multiple ways.”

“If my long-time friend did something like that to me I think I’d feel betrayed as well,” Ford remarked. Something about the way he’d said it made Leo wonder if he didn’t just have to think about it. “You should let her know that you’re okay, I think. But I wouldn’t elaborate.”

Leo’s phone screen had gone dark from inactivity. He turned it on again, unlocked it, and opened the messages app.

He typed out his reply and sent it before he had a chance to think too hard.

 **You**  
I’m fine.

Three dots appeared on the other side of the screen, indicating that Booker was writing out a reply. Leo set his phone face-up on the table.

“Let’s finish with this and then I’ll deal with Booker,” he said, gesturing to his burned hand.

“Sounds like a plan,” Ford said. He tapped the table in front of him with one finger. “Put your hand here.”

Leo put his hand down on the table in the spot Ford had tapped. Ford grabbed a roll of gauze, took Leo’s wrist in one hand, and began wrapping the gauze around the burn.

 _Bzz_. Leo’s phone vibrated. He glanced at it where it sat on the table while Ford continued.

 **Booker**  
sorry i’m not there. some of my idiot friends kidnapped me. i’m not even joking. they knocked me out and everything.

Leo glanced up towards Stan as Ford tied a knot in the gauze. “I’m not even sure what to make of this.”

He shoved his phone towards Stan with his free hand. Stan repositioned it so that he could actually see the screen, read the message, and raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to speak, but the phone buzzed again, cutting him off.

Ford began covering the gauze in self-adhesive medical tape for reassurance. Leo snatched his phone back and read the next message.

 **Booker**  
we’re heading back to the campsite but when i woke up we were already like three hours out of town and it took some convincing to get them to drive me back

Another message popped up within seconds.

 **Booker**  
i’m really sorry about all this. i wanted to be there when you woke up. i guess the universe had other plans.

Wordlessly, Leo passed his phone back to Stan. Ford finished with the medical tape and set Leo’s hand back down on the table.

Leo flexed his fingers, and then tried to curl them into a fist. Ford had done a good job; the bandaging was tight and limited movement.

“Should I tell her?” Leo asked, leaning onto the table with his elbows. “That I left? That I found help?”

“What did she tell you?” Ford asked, moving closer to Stan in order to see the messages. He took a moment to read them.

“I dunno,” Stan said as Ford finished reading. “She seems like she’s really sorry, but I don’t know her, and you do. Use your best judgement.”

“I thought you said you were her only friend,” Ford said sternly.

“That’s part of the reason I’m not sure what to make of it,” Leo replied. “She’s talked about having friends before, but she spoke of them as if they were long dead or left behind. And none of them really seemed like the kidnapping type.”

Despite knowing that Booker was okay, with friends, and on her way back to Gravity Falls, Leo couldn’t shake the feeling that something was strange about this whole situation. Why did her friends literally kidnap her? Why had she turned Leo in the first place? And why had her friends driven her three hours out of town, and then required convincing to turn back?

There were too many pieces missing.

Leo picked up his phone and messaged Booker back.

 **You**  
You have some explaining to do. Message me when you get back and we can meet at the campsite.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and ignored the next few buzzes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is the end note from the first chapter showing up on every chapter for anyone else...? idk whats going on there


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Dipper arrive, but celebrations and welcome backs are unfortunately short-lived.

“So, wait…” Melody furrowed her eyebrows, leaning forward on the counter in the gift shop. “Booker was  _ kidnapped _ after all that happened?”

“Want me to read you the text?” Leo asked. He was seated on a barrel placed at the side of the counter. He didn’t wait for Melody to answer. “It says ‘Sorry I’m not there. Some of my idiot friends kidnapped me. I’m not even joking. They knocked me out and everything.’”

“How do you even knock a vampire out?” Melody asked.

“Garlic,” Leo said simply, shrugging. “It’s kinda like chloroform for vampires.”

“Wh...hang on, seriously?” Melody said. “I thought...well, I guess I don’t know what I thought. But it wasn’t that.”

“I felt pretty much the same way when I found out,” Leo said. He shifted, leaning his elbow on the counter. “Modern media has really shaped society’s perception of vampires. Booker was  _ fuming _ when Twilight got popular.”

“To be fair with you, I’m not sure Stephenie Meyer has ever met a real vampire,” Melody said through a laugh.

“Yeah,” Leo said, trailing off. Everything went quiet for a moment.

Leo was very glad that business was slow at the moment. He hadn’t been able to change clothes, and his current outfit was bloodstained. Luckily, Ford had lent him a dark-colored, thick, zip-up hoodie to assist in covering the stains. Even though it was much too large for Leo’s frame, he was appreciative.

The hoodie, though it seemed like it had recently been washed, smelled vaguely of saltwater, and appropriately, pine needles. Though this was likely a result of Leo’s newly developing vampire traits—as the hours passed, everything had slowly become brighter, stronger, more vivid. It was getting a little overwhelming.

The Stan twins had left the Shack to go meet Dipper and Mabel at the bus stop, who were arriving to stay for the summer. Not wanting to be alone, Leo had found the Shack’s gift shop, where Melody tended the register. She said that the busiest times came after Soos finished with a tour, and he was in the middle of giving one right now.

He still hadn’t been able to shake the bad feeling he had about Booker. In fact, it had gotten more intense; almost as though there was a constant voice in the back of his head telling him that something was wrong about all of this. Along with that came random reappearances of the color red in his thoughts—a bright, deliberate shade of it that reminded Leo of the heart and diamond suits on playing cards. It was a specific thing to be reminded of, but it was all he could manage to connect it to.

“I’m sorry if I’m being a bother,” Leo blurted, breaking the silence. “I’d much prefer to go back to my place, but there’s multiple reasons I can’t do that.”

“You’re not being bothersome!” Melody said genuinely. “You’re a delight, Leo.”

Leo smiled tiredly. “Thanks,” he said. “I’d still like to be back home. But I have no way of getting there, and there’s a crucifix hanging in my living room, which would prevent me from even entering the door.”

“Ah, yeah,” Melody said sympathetically. “Well, you’re welcome here as long as you need a place to stay. It’ll be a little cramped once Dipper and Mabel get here, but we’ll manage! Besides, I can’t imagine it’d be very nice to go through the vampire turning process alone, from what you’ve told me.”

Leo snorted. “You’re right about that.”

It didn’t take long for the Pines twins—both sets of them—to walk in the door of the gift shop, luggage (and a pig, apparently) in hand. Mabel, a thirteen-year-old girl with long, chestnut brown hair and a thick sweater utterly inappropriate for the temperature (perhaps she took inspiration from Ford) plopped her bags down on the ground, set her pig down carefully, and immediately rushed towards the counter where Leo and Melody were seated.

“Melodyyyyyy!” Mabel exclaimed. She gripped the edge of the counter, bouncing up and down. Dipper set down his bags as well, walking up behind her, hands in the pockets of his navy-blue vest.

Melody leaned forward on her elbows. “What’s up, you guys?”

“Guess what day it is!” Mabel exclaimed. “You’ll never guess because my grunkles are boring buzzkills. But guess anyway!”

Dipper rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Neither of them had acknowledged Leo’s presence as of yet.

“It’s...Saturday?” Melody guessed.

“Well, yes, but…” Dipper attempted to say something, but was almost immediately cut off by his sister.

“These old timers are a whole year older!” Mabel exclaimed. She pulled two party hats seemingly out of nowhere, shuffled back to the Stan twins, and forcibly placed one on each of their heads. Stan chuckled. Ford looked flustered.

“Whoa, really? Why didn’t you say so?” Melody asked.

“Birthdays get less exciting the older you are,” Stan said, a grin on his face. He readjusted the party hat. “Besides, we talked it over, and we didn’t wanna interfere with all this vampire business.”

“Wait, sorry,  _ vampire business _ ?” Dipper’s eyes widened. He whipped around to face his grunkles, dislodging the lumberjack hat on his head in the process. Mabel caught it midair and placed it back crookedly on his head.

“The vampire has a name,” Leo said flatly. Dipper spun back around to look at him. Leo was getting dizzy just watching the kid.

“Dipper, Mabel, this is Leo,” Ford introduced them. Leo offered a greeting in the form of a lopsided smile.

“Okay, hang on, wait wait wait,” Dipper said quickly, gesturing wildly. Once again, he turned around, facing Stan and Ford. He pointed categorically towards them, furrowing his eyebrows. “Explain.”

“I think it’d be better to let Leo explain,” Stan said, crossing his arms. “It’s quite the tale.”

Dipper turned, once again, to face Leo. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mabel placed a firm hand on his shoulder, so he stopped.

“Bro-bro, you’re making me dizzy,” Mabel said. “Besides, it sounds like there’s a  _ loooooong _ story behind this, and we’ve got unpacking to do! I’m sure Leo can tell us later.”

She looked up at Leo, hopeful smile on her face. “Sure,” Leo said. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

A terrible, panicked feeling began to worm its way into Leo’s gut. He tried to push it away for the moment.

Unfortunately, before anyone could continue speaking, Leo’s phone went off.

Except this time, it wasn’t the single buzz of a text message; this time, it was _ ringing _ .

The panicked feeling exploded through Leo’s body, and his heart began racing out of control. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, hands shaking, and attempted to steady it enough to read the caller ID.

It was Booker again.

A split second later, the call had been answered, the phone pressed to Leo’s ear.

“Booker?!” Leo exclaimed, louder than intended. The reply came frantic and clumsy.

“Leo, I…” Booker was breathing hard. “No, fuck, never mind, you can’t ride your motorcycle right now, it’s the middle of the day, what am I  _ thinking _ …”

“Booker, what’s...what’s wrong?” Leo stuttered. “Why would I need my motorcycle?”

“You don’t...you don’t have a  _ car _ ,” Booker cried, “and my keys are in my  _ pocket _ so you can’t drive mine, and, I, I just don’t know what to do!”

“Slow down, slow down,” Leo said, trying to calm his heart. Booker wasn’t usually like this, even in terrible situations. It was incredibly worrying. An unfamiliar voice began saying something to her, but the owner of the voice was too far from the phone for Leo to make out words. “Why would I need your car, or my motorcycle? Do you need me to go somewhere? To come get you?”

The sound of an engine starting came from the other end. “Just go!” Booker yelled, talking to someone other than Leo. Leo slid off the barrel to a standing position and mouthed the words  _ help me _ to the Stan twins.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Booker repeated herself. It was obvious that they were in a moving vehicle at this point. The voice said something else, and once again, Leo couldn’t make it out. “I’m scared, Leo.”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Leo exclaimed. Stan shooed Dipper and Mabel away along with their luggage. Ford walked closer to Leo.

The word  _ scared _ began to repeat itself in Leo’s thoughts. The flashes of red like playing card suits were back, as well. His head was pounding.

“My friends, they…” Booker paused for a moment, “...one of them was kidnapped, but not like I was.”

“More information!” Leo coaxed. Stan, Ford, and Melody were all leaning towards Leo in attempt to hear the other end of the conversation.

“My friends...they’re vampires…” Booker said. “This is too much to explain. They kidnapped me to keep me safe from something. And now that something has abducted one of them and is after me.”

“Where are you?” Leo asked sternly. “I’m coming.”

“How? I’m not letting you steal a car,” Booker said.

“I’m not going to steal one!” Leo exclaimed defensively. “Just tell me where you are! And if I should bring weapons! And backup!”

“You’re not at the campsite anymore, are you?” Booker asked.

“That doesn’t  _ fucking _ matter, jackass! I can get to you, I can bring weapons, and I can’t guarantee anything about the backup but I can damn well try. Just tell me where you are.”

“I-I’m…” Booker seemed taken aback. She spoke her next words to someone else. “Where are we, even? I mean, the middle of nowhere, obviously, but what state? What highway? We just left a gas station, that should help, right?”

“Give me the phone,” the unfamiliar voice said. Some shuffling. Then the unfamiliar voice spoke, somehow able to keep their tone completely level. “We just left a Seventy-Six gas station in The Dalles, and we’re headed towards I-eighty-four. I’m not sure if there’ll be anywhere to stop in that area, so we’ll have to do a bit of improv. I want you to hang up the phone, convince your backup to help you, and look up the location on your maps app while your backup gathers any weapons they can find and loads them into whatever vehicle you’re taking. I’m hoping for guns. And ammo, don’t forget the ammo. After you’re done with all that, just fucking drive.”

“The Dalles, right? That’s like,  _ eighty _ miles away,” Melody said. Leo glanced at her.

_ Beep beep beep _ . They’d hung up.

“Guns? We need guns?” Stan asked. His tone was serious, but there was an excited glint in his eyes.

“And ammo,” Leo said, shoving his phone haphazardly back in his pocket.

“Know where the guns are, Sixer?” Stan said, casting a glance at his brother.

“I know where  _ mine _ are,” Ford replied.

Stan spoke whilst kneeling down and pulling up one of the floorboards. “Dunno if those will work. They’re all the way down in the lab, we’re pressed for time, and also they’re just not as cool as the guns from this dimension.”

“ _ I beg to differ _ ?” Ford was offended.

“Hey, shut the fuck up, get the guns, and let’s go,” Leo said, gesturing wildly. “You two have a car, right? We’re also gonna need one of those.”

“The Stanmobile may be old, but she’s still functional!” Stan exclaimed. He placed two handguns and a few boxes of ammo on the floor next to the board he’d ripped up. 

“Wh…” Ford stammered, a combined look of concern and anger crossing his features. “No! Absolutely not. Stanley, not only did you get your driver’s license suspended, it wasn’t even  _ your _ license, it was  _ mine _ ! I’ll trust you to drive me that far a distance in this dire a situation when hell freezes over.”

“Beep boop, the hospital just called,” Stan said, “Satan is dying of hypothermia. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok ok...after this theres gonna be like 5 chapters where mabel and dipper just arent there and i feel bad about introducing them to the story and then just leaving them behind, but theres REASONs ok,, theyll come back i havent forgotten about them!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find Booker, and Leo experiences sensory overload.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know anything about guns and i dont really have any desire to sorry!

Bigger guns loaded into the trunk of the car, Stan, Ford, and Leo piled inside. Each possessed a loaded handgun, though Leo wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to utilize his. He hadn’t shot at anything in a long, long time, and one of his hands was currently incapacitated by burns and bandages.

Stan dramatically shoved his key in the ignition and started the car. It was a burgundy 1965 El Diablo Convertible with a custom license plate, and though it looked impressively well taken care of considering its age, the roof didn’t go down anymore and the whole thing smelled like stale cigarette smoke.

Ford riding in the front passenger’s seat and Leo in the back with a sun hat over his face to minimize exposure to sunlight, they sped off, tires squealing. Leo was overwhelmed by everything to the point that it felt like it could have been a dream—the loud noise was still loud, but sounded as though it was traveling through water; every color was more saturated than he had ever seen in real-life environments; and though his body didn’t feel numb, his sense of touch wasn’t working quite right.

He knew, logically, that it wasn’t a dream. He’d experienced feelings similar to this before, back when he was a teenager still figuring life out. Despite knowing this, he couldn’t bring himself to stop doubting that what was happening was really real.

His brain needed time to process things, that was all. He’d just jumped into a car with two old men he’d just met, who happened to have heavy weaponry stored throughout their house, after being turned into a vampire by his best friend, who had been kidnapped by some of  _ her _ friends, who were apparently in grave danger. Processing time was probably important.

They merged onto I-84 within minutes, which was impressive, considering the distance. At some point a CD had been shoved into the stereo, and a gritty rock song blared through the speakers. Stan bobbed his head to the rhythm, but Ford seemed unimpressed with his choice of music.

They raced down the highway in tense silence for several minutes.

Eventually, Ford leaned around his seat to face Leo. “Is it alright if I ask you a question?”

“You’ve been asking ‘em all morning,” Leo said, deadpan, staring out the window as pine trees whizzed past his line of sight. “What’s the harm in one more?”

“Are you alright?” Ford asked. Leo turned to face him and stared for a moment, brain still registering what had been said.

“Do you want me to be honest?” Leo asked. His tone indicated cynicism, but behind it, he was being genuine.

“I do,” Ford replied. Stan’s music and the overbearing ambience of the highway faded into white noise. Leo wasn't sure what to say. 

“I…” Leo began to speak, but stopped upon realizing that he didn't know where he intended to take his statement. What qualified as “alright”? His burned hand could've been worse, but it was hardly “alright”. The same went for his mental state, physical symptoms, and the situation in general. Leo could list a million ways everything could be worse for him, but none of it was “alright”.

“I’m…” Leo paused again, now knowing what to say but not how to word it. He didn’t want to sound too modest about things, but he didn’t want to make it seem as though this was the  _ worst _ thing to  _ ever _ happen, either. Booker had lived through the Great Depression and World War II. The details of her experiences with those events weren’t concrete, but Leo knew some  _ bad _ things had happened to her during those times, and he didn’t want to make his current situation sound comparable to that in the slightest. 

Leo exhaled loudly. “No, I’m not alright,” he finally said. “Obviously shit could be worse, but I have a second degree burn on my hand and I’m turning into a vampire. That’s oversimplifying things, but really, could  _ anyone _ be alright in a situation like this?”

“No, they couldn’t,” Ford said. “And that’s partially why I’m asking. I feel as though I’ve given your situation more attention than I have you as a person. I gravitate towards circumstances over individuals more than I care to admit, and I’m trying to get better in that sense. Is there anything, anything at all, that either of us could do to make things more bearable for you right now?”

Leo’s jaw went slack, and he returned his gaze to the passing trees outside the car, hoping Ford didn’t notice the tears stinging his eyes. There were so many things it seemed he  _ should _ have been feeling, and yet, he wasn’t experiencing any of them. No anxiety for Booker, no adrenaline from the speed of the vehicle and Stan’s reckless driving, no relief at Ford’s inquiry. All he could feel was melancholy.

“Take me back in time to last night, then I can avoid this whole mess,” Leo said quietly. “You guys probably have some way to do that, right?”

Ford chuckled, though there was a sad tinge to the sound. “I’d rather not deal with the Time Police today. Sorry.”

He turned back, sitting straight in his seat and looking through the front window. Leo blinked away his tears. Ford’s voice was gone. Reality hit him like a brick. Everything was so  _ loud _ . It wasn’t even Stan’s gritty rock music anymore; it was the whistling of the wind outside the car, the blood rushing in his ears. Heartbeats. He could hear heartbeats, but they couldn’t have been his. He didn’t have two hearts.

Thoughts tried to push through the haze of his brain, but they were making about as much progress as Sisyphus pushing his boulder up the mountain. Nothing made sense. There wasn’t a lot that needed to be deciphered lurking around him, but still, none of it was clear; not the trees outside, not the men sitting in the front seats, not the heartbeats, the pounding heartbeats, the agonizingly overwhelming heartbeats. It was all so gratuitous.

He closed his eyes and pretended he didn't exist. 

...

Leo wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or not, but most signs pointed to yes.

His phone was ringing. The caller ID indicated that it was Booker once again. He answered and held it to his ear, surprised by how steady his hands were.

“Yo,” Leo said. Ford glanced at him briefly, just to make sure he wasn’t being addressed.

“Leo,” Booker responded. Her voice was calmer than it had been during the previous phone call, though Leo could still hear the anxiety behind it. “You’re on your way, right?”

“We’re in a car on I-eighty-four and we’re moving, so I’d assume that’s the case,” Leo said.

“We’re on the Veteran Memorial Highway,” Booker said. “Stopped on the side of the road. Big white van, no windows in the back. Do you think you’re close at all?”

“Hang on,” Leo said. He held the receiver away from his mouth. “Hey, Ford.”

“Yes?” Ford replied.

“Are we on the Veteran Memorial Highway?” Leo asked. “That’s where Booker and her friend are stopped.”

“Nah, but we’re close,” Stan answered before his brother could open his mouth. “What should I be lookin’ for?”

“White van, no back windows,” Leo said. “Probably westbound.”

“Got it!” Stan said. Leo spoke to Booker again.

“We’re close,” he said. “Everything good? You’re not in immediate danger?”

“As far as we can tell, no,” Booker said. “But don’t take your time.”

“Yeah, got it,” Leo said.

“And Leo?” Booker said, a sudden sincerity to her voice.

“Mm-hm?”

“I know I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, and I know there’s really nothing that can justify what I did to you. I’m sorry. We’ll...we’ll catch up in a bit.”

She hung up before Leo could respond, probably afraid of what he’d say.

It wasn’t long before they spotted the white van; it was illegally parked on the side of the highway. Unfortunately, the van was facing west, and the Stanmobile was facing east. The center of the highway was a metal median, not made to be driven over, and there was a fairly steep drop in between the eastbound and westbound lanes. Stan pulled the car over, but kept the engine running for the moment.

“You’re not driving through that,” Ford said knowingly. Stan shot him a dirty look.

“I wasn’t going to!” He said in defense. “Are you  _ kidding _ me? That’d  _ ruin _ the Stanmobile. I was thinking more along the lines of running across the road and praying we don’t get hit.”

“That sounds like a  _ terrible _ idea,” Leo joined the conversation. “But I don’t have a better one, so I say we do it.”

Ford didn’t say anything, but Leo could tell he wanted to protest.

Stan shut the car off, and they exited. Leo grabbed Booker’s umbrella from beside him and held it over his head for extra protection from the midday sunlight.

They regrouped, facing towards the highway. Fortunately, it wasn’t particularly busy at the moment, but it would still be dangerous to cross, and the drag from the umbrella would prevent Leo from running at full speed.

There was a break in the traffic, and Stan took the chance, running out onto the pavement. He motioned sloppily for Ford and Leo to follow. Ford did so immediately, but Leo hesitated for a moment. Hearts pounding, they dashed as fast as possible towards the grassy median. Leo struggled to keep his umbrella over his head as he ran, but he managed it well enough that he didn’t procure any more burns.

They stopped, catching their breath for a moment next to the metal barrier. 

“Ready to do that again?” Stan asked, beginning to climb over the barrier.

“No,” Leo groaned. He followed anyway.

They made it across the second stretch of highway and to the white van, gathering near the driver’s side door. The windows were tinted a dark shade, likely to prevent sunlight from damaging the vampire inhabitants.

A man that Leo had never seen before sat behind the wheel.

He rolled down the window, and when he spoke, Leo realized this had been the person other than Booker he’d talked to on the phone earlier. “Are those two your backup?” He said, raising his eyebrows. “Not what I was expecting.”

“Teddy, are you  _ really _ in a good position to be acting like that?” Booker spoke from the passenger’s seat. Leo felt conflicted about hearing her voice in person for the first time since he’d been turned. “You don’t know them. They could turn around and walk away right now without a second thought.”

“Lucky for you, we’re not going to do that,” Stan spoke.

“Asshole,” the man, presumably Teddy, mumbled towards Booker. “You three. Get in the back. Let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ngl i'm really excited for teddy to be here because the dynamic between teddy and booker is really fun to write


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker and Leo have a much needed conversation, among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi uuuhhhhhhh i updated
> 
> tumblr purge kinda threw me off also i fell in love with jesse mccree so im kinda not making as much ford content but i love him w all my heart still so i couldnt just abandon this (especially when i have up to chapter 9 prewritten...)
> 
> here ya go!!!
> 
> P.S. booker and teddy are like my ultimate brotp like even above leo and booker

Leo, Stan, and Ford climbed into the back of the van. Teddy rolled his window back up.

Now that he could see her properly, Leo was  _ not _ happy to be in Booker’s presence. Her hair, dark brown, short, and tucked behind her ears, was messy, but in its usual way; not in the frantic, frazzled way Leo had pictured it. Her pale brown face was as perfect as ever, aside from the scar running vertically through her lips, but that had been there as long as Leo had known her. She was frowning, but her copper-brown eyes indicated excitement. Leo had always known she thrived on chaos, but her stuttering and panic earlier made him think that maybe something about this was different. Clearly, he’d been wrong. She looked sturdy, confident, and completely nonchalant about the situation.

And then there was Teddy, a man who, though he looked to be in his mid-30s, seemed to carry the weight of an eternity on his shoulders. His short, messy hair had been dyed an unorthodox shade of bubblegum pink, and it was growing in dark at the roots. He wore glasses with mint-green frames, and behind them rested a pair of brown, almond-shaped eyes with incredibly prominent bags underneath. Though his skin was pale, as he was a vampire, it was tan and dotted with blemishes. He had symmetrical piercings all across his face; one on each of his eyebrows, a septum ring, one on either side of his lower lip, and too many on his ears to count. Every piece of jewelry he’d placed in his piercings was brass.

The both of them joined Leo, Stan, and Ford in the back, where several of the seats had been taken out and replaced with what seemed like a makeshift living area.

Teddy sat cross-legged on the decrepit mattress that rested on the floor of the van. Everyone else found their own positions, not comfortable by any means, but bearable enough for the time being.

“Let’s get names out of the way,” Teddy said, eyes darting between the three newcomers. “I’m Teddy. That’s Booker. Your turn.”

“I’m Leo,” Leo said. He gestured to the twins. “That’s Stan and Ford, my backup.”

“You two are aware of the whole vampire thing?” Teddy glanced at Stan and Ford.

“Aware of it, yes,” Ford answered. “Though we’re currently lacking details.”

“Don’t gotta worry about that now,” Teddy said. “This is life-or-death. Leo, Booker told me about your situation, so no need to fill me in on that. We need to talk about the reason Booker requested you meet us.”

“That’d be helpful,” Stan remarked.

“So, little bit of background,” Booker jumped in. “There’s this group of vampire hunters that call themselves the Playing Cards. They’re possibly the most dangerous and ambitious hunters in the country, and they’re what we’re dealing with right now.”

“Are they the ones that abducted your friend?” Leo asked.

“Yes,” Booker said. “Teddy’s partner, Cy. Vampires have the ability to sense other vampires within a certain proximity, and the Playing Cards use this to their advantage. They kidnap and torture us, using us as living vampire trackers in order to maximize their kill count.”

“This is Cy’s van,” Teddy took over. “I don’t know exactly what Booker told you about us, but we were taking her with us to escape the threat of the Playing Cards. We stopped to refuel at that Seventy-Six gas station in The Dalles, and that’s when Cy was abducted. They were gone before we could do anything.”

Booker side-eyed him for a moment, seemingly suspicious of his wording. She paused before speaking. “Since Teddy is the one who turned Cy, they have a telepathic bond, and that’s probably going to be our best bet at finding him. Teddy’s told me that their communication is blocked right now, which means Cy is unconscious, and there’s really nothing we can do until he wakes up. Luckily, the Playing Cards can’t do much with him until he wakes up, either.”

Leo made a mental note about the telepathic bond thing—had that been the cause of the weird feelings he’d been having this morning, all of which seemed to link back to Booker? He wasn’t entirely sure he  _ wanted _ to have her in his head constantly.

“This place is pretty cramped, though,” Teddy said, stretching out his back. It made a cracking sound. “It’s fine when Cy and I are the only ones living here, but there are five of us. There’s no telling how long it’ll be until Cy wakes up. It could be fifteen minutes, or it could be fifteen hours. We need to plan for the latter.”

“We ain’t too far from The Dalles,” Stan said, pointing his thumb behind him, vaguely in the direction of the town. “I’m sure there’s some kind of cheap motel we can set up camp at.”

“One of you three has to rent the room,” Booker said. “Neither of us are legally people.”

“What does that mean?” Ford asked.

“Government doesn’t really like to have immortals running around,” Teddy explained. “If someone with any sort of legal power finds out you’re not aging, they erase you. Advantages include not having to pay taxes. Disadvantages include pretty much everything else.”

“Can’t rent rooms unless you’ve got some kind of fake identification,” Booker added. “Ted doesn’t usually worry about that, because he lives out of this van with Cy. But my name’s been Booker Saint Claire since the nineties, and someone’s bound to notice at some point that I haven’t aged a day past twenty-eight. I’d use my fake to rent the room, but if there’s someone legal here, I’d prefer we do it that way, just to be safe.”

“Well, I can’t rent the room, I’m legally dead,” Stan said nonchalantly.

“Wh...never mind,” Leo cut himself off. “I’ll ask about that later. So it’s between me and Ford? I think it’s gotta be Ford. I haven’t renewed my license since two-thousand one.”

Booker rolled her eyes, a smile working its way onto her lips. She glanced at Ford. “If you rent the room, I’ll repay you in cash as soon as we get back to Gravity Falls. Deal?”

“I’ll be holding you to that,” Ford said. “But yes. We have a deal.”

...

Leo, Booker, and Teddy had decided to ride together in the van while Stan and Ford followed closely behind in the Stanmobile. Leo and Booker needed to talk, weather they liked it or not.

They sat on the floor of the van as Teddy drove, backs resting against the front seats, dancing around the singular important subject they needed to discuss. Anything was more interesting than what Booker had done right now; the Pines twins, Teddy and Cy, Leo’s unfinished novel, even the goddamn weather. They had known each other for 12 years, and Leo could count the times they'd made small talk like this on one of his hands. Both of them utterly hated the concept. 

A particularly long break in the conversation motivated Teddy to butt in. 

“I don't know about Leo, but Booker, I've known you since nineteen thirty-one. You need to discuss this with him, you idiot.”

“You've known him that long?” Leo questioned, fidgeting with a loose string unraveling from one of the rips in his jeans. “How come I've never heard about him?”

“You have,” Booker said breathily. “Just not by name.”

“Why not?” Leo asked.

“I dunno. I guess I just didn't feel ready to give you all the details yet. Everything I've told you about my past has been extremely cherry-picked.”

Leo went quiet. Teddy groaned loudly. 

“You're doing it again!” He said. “Quit talking about me. You can do that later. I don't want us to be held back while rescuing Cy because you two are busy glaring daggers at each other.”

“We're not…” Booker made an attempt at a protest, but Teddy wasn't having it. 

“You. Leo,” he began. “You're a vampire now. Or, at least, you're turning into one. How do you feel about that?”

Leo didn't want to answer honestly. Really, he didn't want to answer at all.

“We don't have all day!” Teddy coaxed. “We're like fifteen minutes away from the motel, and I ain't getting paid to be your therapist.”

“I hate the very concept and wish you hadn't done this to me,” Leo mumbled quickly. Booker heard him, clear as day.

“I knew you were going to say that,” she replied, staring at the floor. Her hair bounced when they went over a particularly large bump in the road.

“Why?” Leo said, turning his head to look at her. “Why would you do it if you knew how I’d react?”

Booker opened her mouth and inhaled, but closed it again without speaking.

“I don’t hate you,” Leo said softly. “I mean, currently I do, but in general I don’t, and eventually I’m gonna work up the guts to forgive you. But that’s gonna take a whole lot longer if you keep hiding things from me.”

Booker sighed. “It’s just...you were getting older, and eventually you were going to die and I didn’t think I’d be able to deal with the floor above me being empty. And I knew it was wrong to turn you without consent, but I did it anyway, and there’s nothing in my ability I can do to change that. You’re one of the only people I’ve ever been able to really trust,  _ especially _ in Gravity Falls, and the thought of losing you someday was unbearable.”

“Hey, what about me?” Teddy seemed offended. “You can trust me, can’t you?”

“ _ One of _ ,” Booker repeated. “Besides, Leo’s my neighbor. I have no idea where you are literally ninety-eight percent of the time, and now you’ve got Cy, so my existence doesn’t benefit you anymore.”

“Booker, that’s—”

Booker cut Teddy off. “Wouldn’t kill you to reply to my texts or answer your phone once in a while.”

Teddy didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, Leo,” Booker said. “I’m an asshole and a bitch and when I say that this time I  _ mean _ it, I’m not joking around. The camping trip was never about your writer’s block, it was about turning you. And I might’ve...exaggerated my voice on that phone call earlier to make sure you’d come help us. I don’t want to be the bad guy. But I think I don’t have a choice at this point.”

“You  _ are _ an asshole and a bitch,” Leo said, the smallest of smiles on his lips. “You’re also overwhelming, and a freak, and a stain on humanity, but hell if I ain’t all those things too. I’m not ready to trust you or forgive you yet, but I  _ am _ ready to start viewing this as a significantly-sized pothole on an otherwise smooth road. It’ll damage the tires and we’ll struggle to drive over it without crashing, but in the end, we’ll be okay.”

Leo looked at her. She had tears in her eyes.

She buried her face in her arms, speaking a muffled sentence that she refused to repeat when prompted.

...

Ford rented them a room at Oregon Motor Motel, and they all squished inside, doing their best to look inconspicuous. Stan sat at the foot of the bed, flipping through channels on the TV, though there only seemed to be five in total, and two of them were mostly static that occasionally broke out into their intended programs. Ford sat in the desk chair next to the bed, loose paper in front of him, pen in his hand. Booker and Teddy were on the bed behind Stan; Booker was laying down with her legs propped up against the headboard, and Teddy was cross-legged on top of one of the pillows. Leo sat on the floor, leaning against the bed frame. He was growing tired from the venom still working its way through his body, but he couldn’t let himself fall asleep right now.

It was agonizing to wait, knowing that Cy was at the mercy of a feared gang of vampire hunters.

“Tell me more about the telepathic bond.” Ford had taken to asking questions and making requests for information as a form of entertainment. “Are there limits? How is it developed? What’s it like?”

“If a vampire turns a human, they develop a bond,” Booker began. “There’s limits, but it really depends. Teddy and Cy can have full conversations with each other and they never have to open their mouths. I could only really exchange feelings and vague concepts with the last person I was bonded with.”

“Clearly, that’s on you,” Teddy said knowingly.

“Have you turned people other than me?” Leo asked.

“No,” Booker said. “Last bond was with the guy who turned  _ me _ . Lasted until the late nineties. Then he had to go and get a boyfriend. We can only bond to one person at a time, and he chose his partner over me.”

“I ain’t sorry,” Teddy remarked. 

Suddenly, it clicked. Teddy had been the vampire who turned Booker.

“It was you?” Leo said, leaning his head back in a fruitless attempt at meeting Teddy’s gaze. “The streets of...where was it again? Eighty years ago, dead of night, cigarette smoke and a feeling of dread hanging in the air. I remember that part of the story.”

“Vancouver,” Booker said distantly. “You didn’t have any piercings back then, and your hair looked stupider. You said your name was Henry. Teddy didn’t come about until the sixties.”

“You’re making it sound cooler than it was,” Teddy said. “That night wasn’t cool at all. You were st—”

“Shh!” Booker shushed him. “They don’t need to know that. Keep it magical.”

Ford jotted down a few notes before speaking again. “How long does the turning process last?”

“Again, depends,” Booker said. “I felt like I was dying for two weeks. And I kind of was, I guess. No heartbeat and all. But I don’t think Leo’s will last that long—I’d give it four days, max. I was really skinny and kind of malnourished back then, but Leo’s in better shape.”

“What, am I  _ not _ skinny and malnourished?” Leo said.

“You know the term ‘skin-and-bones’?” Teddy began. “Let’s just say you don’t know what it really means until it’s staring you in the face.”

“Nineteen thirty-one was during the Depression,” Ford commented. “Skin-and-bones? You were starving, weren’t you?”

“You’re ruining the magic!” Booker whined, trying to keep the atmosphere of the conversation light.

“She was homeless, away from her family, and starving, yes,” Teddy explained. “She found out I was a vampire and wouldn’t stop bothering me. I was kind of a downer back then, and I think I tried to convince you that starving was a preferable fate, didn’t I?”

“No, you told me to jump off a bridge,” Booker said, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them. “Good thing I didn’t listen.”

Leo could hear the smile in her voice, and knew that she was being overly cutesy, her tongue poking out from between her teeth, her eyes glinting. Teddy let out an almost-laugh.

Leo wasn’t sure how to respond, or if he should at all. Booker was over one-hundred years old, and it seemed like Teddy was even older, perhaps by centuries. They seemed incredibly disconnected from the topics they were discussing—starvation, suicide, homelessness. Leo didn’t know if he had the right mindset to contribute to their banter, and he didn’t want to point out how serious these subjects really were, either.

“That’s...not funny.” Clearly, Ford did not have the same reservations.

“You’ll understand when you’re one-hundred and ten,” Booker talked down to him as though he was a child.

Ford continued to ask questions, disregarding the oddities spewing from Booker and Teddy’s mouths. Leo was sick of passing out at this point, but he was struggling to keep his eyes open, and his muscles were sore enough that he needed to lie down in order to be comfortable.

He fell asleep, curled up on the tacky carpet of the motel.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew tries to rescue Cy, but things get...difficult.

Leo was elbowed awake. He made a groggy noise, rubbing his eyes in attempt to rid them of their sleepiness. At some point, he’d been moved from the floor to the bed. Booker sat at his side, staring boredly at her phone as the rest of the room’s residents argued over something.

“We _can’t_ kill anyone!” Teddy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “The guns are for intimidation. That’s it.”

“I don’t get it,” Stan said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Can’t we claim self-defense? Your partner was _kidnapped_.”

“No! That’s not how it works!” Teddy growled. “Since Booker, Cy, and I aren’t legally people, crimes against us don’t count. If one of us is murdered in cold blood, no one with any kind of legal power gives a fuck. In fact, if any kind of law enforcement finds out there’s vampires running around, there’s a good chance they’ll tip off some hunters and have us eliminated. Is that what you want? Huh?”

Teddy pointed an index finger directly at Stan. Stan held his hands up defensively. “Whoa, take it easy. That’s not what I want at all. I’m just trying to figure out the best way to help you.”

“You wanna help? Then stop questioning me,” Teddy said in a calculated voice.

Leo forced himself to a sitting position. “The fuck’s up with them?”

Booker sighed. “Teddy’s being a stubborn asshole and bossing your backup around,” she answered with a shrug. Teddy stormed away and plopped down in the desk chair, taking out his phone. Booker projected her voice towards the Stan twins. “He’s not normally like this, I swear. It’s just the circumstances that have him on edge. But he seriously knows what he’s doing, so follow his orders.”

Teddy motioned for the Stan twins to join him by the desk. Booker turned back to Leo.

“Cy woke up,” she explained. “Teddy’s been communicating with him for about five minutes now. We’re working out a plan as fast as we can.”

“He’s blindfolded, bound, and being threatened with torture,” Teddy said through his teeth. “He’s terrified. I’ve made sure that if he tells the Playing Cards where any vampires are, it’s gotta be us. The problem is that the blindfold prevents him from knowing where he is. It’s been long enough that they could be in another state by now.”

A tense silence enveloped the air. Leo swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up on wobbly feet.

“You guys keep doing your thing,” he said, stretching his arms. “I’ve gotta wake up. Gonna splash some water on my face.”

He retreated to the tiny bathroom of the motel room, surprised to find that he was still able to see his reflection in the mirror. He looked terrible, like he had the flu and hadn’t slept in a week. Bags under his eyes weren’t exactly a rare sight, but at the moment they were extreme and accompanied by dark circles. Blood still stained his neck and tee-shirt, and Ford’s hoodie was crooked on his shoulders. His hair, a black-dyed mohawk, was tousled and oily; it wasn’t styled at the moment, and laid flat on his head, drooping towards one side.

He combed his fingers through his hair, splashed his face with cold water, and scrubbed some of the dried blood off his neck. He still looked like shit, but now he looked like semi-presentable shit.

Booker entered the room behind him, making her presence known with loud footsteps. Predictably, her reflection was absent from the mirror.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she commented, eyeing Leo’s reflection. She poked at his hair. “I’d imagine this is gonna be hard to style without being able to see it.”

Leo groaned. “God, I didn’t even think of that,” he said. “Goodbye, badass mohawk.”

Booker snorted. “C’mon. We’ve got shit to do.”

...

“Booker’s the bait,” Teddy explained, throwing open the back door of Cy’s van and moving things around to optimize use of the space. They’d relocated the Stanmobile and Cy’s van from the motel parking lot to a more discreet location, and were shuffling through the weapons and other supplies they possessed, carefully choosing what was required to bring on their mission. “She’ll be in the diner, and with luck, be able to distract them long enough for me to break Cy out. You three need to be on standby in case things get messy. We can’t kill anyone, don’t forget that. And refrain from firing your gun if at all possible; we don’t wanna have to deal with the repercussions.”

“Do they know we’ll be there?” Ford asked, leaning in the passenger’s side of the Stanmobile and shuffling through the glove compartment for something.

“Cy says they’re headed towards the Dalles. I told him that’s where we were,” Teddy answered.

“Do you know how long we’re gonna have to wait?” Leo asked. He was attempting to see if he could properly aim his gun with one hand. It was proving to be an easier task than expected, but remained difficult nonetheless.

“It seemed like they weren’t that far,” Teddy said.

“Yeah, I can sense him,” Booker added, poking through the guns loaded into the trunk of the Stanmobile. “I couldn’t earlier. They’re closer.”

Ford pulled an opened pack of lighters out of the glove compartment and tossed them to Teddy. It was a three pack, but one was missing.

“Hey!” Stan protested, snatching them away from Teddy. “How’d you know that was there?”

“Lucky guess,” Ford deadpanned. “I don’t think we’ll need them, and if we do I couldn’t imagine what for, but you never know.”

“Never hurts to be prepared,” Teddy said breathily. “I’ve got a few lighters laying around...maybe like ten? I lost count. It’s at least seven. I like getting different patterns.”

“Why do you need lighters?” Stan questioned. “Can vampires even smoke? Do they breathe at all? Or are you like, secretly an arsonist?”

“Oh my god,” Booker said, her voice dripping with satire. “Ted, you’ve secretly been an arsonist this _whole time_ ? Are _you_ the one responsible for that kitchen fire I had in nineteen ninety...whatever year it was?”

Teddy rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smirk from creeping onto his face. “That was _you_ , unsuccessfully attempting to use a stove for the first time in sixty years. I’m still unclear on _why_ you were trying to cook, though.”

“I had a date!” Booker defended herself, pulling a large gun out from the trunk and looking it over. “She was human. I wanted to make a good impression.”

“Some impression,” Leo commented. “Bet she loved you after that.”

“She thought it was endearing,” Booker said, “after I explained what’d happened, that is. Didn’t really have time to cancel, so she showed up and there were fire trucks parked in front of my apartment building, and everyone was outside, and it was winter so you could imagine how happy they were with me. Anyway, I told her what had happened and that we needed to reschedule the date. Then I never spoke to her again because I’m an ass.”

Everyone laughed. Leo was glad that Booker was able to lighten the mood, no matter how angry he was with her.

“To answer your questions, yes and no,” Teddy said after everyone had quieted. “It’s entirely possible for us to smoke, but because of our enhanced healing abilities, it doesn’t really have an effect on us.”

“What’s with the lighters, then?” Stan asked. “ _Are_ you an arsonist?”

“No, he smokes,” Booker groused. Stan raised an eyebrow, confused. Booker continued. “I don’t get it either.”

“I’m going through a midlife crisis. I’m five-hundred and…” Teddy trailed off, turning his eyes to the sky, mouthing numbers under his breath. “...Five-hundred and twenty-eight, I think. I’ve gone through at least six midlife crises at this point. Cut me some slack.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

They finished preparing their supplies. Packed items included two larger guns, four handguns, appropriate ammo for both, the lighters, an improperly stocked first-aid kit that had been sitting under the back seat of the Stanmobile since god knows what year, a couple of phone chargers, a pair of wire cutters, a set of lockpicks, eighty dollars in cash, and some bottled water for the humans.

Teddy had made sure Cy was aware of which diner they’d be posted at, and Cy assured him that the Playing Cards were on their way. They parked the van a few blocks away, and remaining on high alert, waited until they knew the Playing Cards were near.

Booker entered the diner while the other four lingered outside the entrance. Leo leaned against the wall, cool night air brushing across his face. It smelled like pine trees, a distant bonfire, and whatever greasy but delicious food was being cooked up inside the building behind him. The scenery didn’t seem as dark as it should’ve been—almost as though someone had turned up the exposure on his eyes.

No one spoke. Crickets and muffled music were the only noises.

At least, they were, until a metallic red SUV pulled into the parking lot, tires grinding against the gravel.

Leo pulled out his phone, staring at it as nonchalantly as possible—however, this proved to be difficult when even the lowest brightness setting seemed blinding. As the occupants of the car exited, he couldn’t help but glance in their direction.

Out of the driver’s side stepped a tall, dark-skinned woman. She held herself confidently, and despite her thin frame, Leo knew she was tough. Her messy, curly black hair was tied in a half-up, half-down look, uneven bangs cascading across her forehead. Though her makeup was heavy and dark, her fashion sense was very Bohemian. Her smile and her stare were a little bit wild.

Next came another woman, this one with incredibly white skin in contrast to her companion. Her long, straight orange hair was shaved on one side, and her bangs obscured half of her face. She wore heavy makeup as well, but it was bright red instead of dark. Her clothing was a mix of layers; Leo noticed fishnet and denim most prominently. At first glance, her earrings appeared to be large, thin hoops, but when she turned her head it became clear that they were heart-shaped. The only reason her height rivaled the other woman’s was because of the six-inch heeled boots she wore.

The last to exit the vehicle was another woman, also with dark skin. She was significantly shorter than the first two, and seemed to curl in on herself insecurely. She was heavyset, and wore a leather jacket with spikes decorating the shoulders. Her frizzy black hair was pulled into two buns high on her head.

The third woman shushed a dog who’d let out a loud bark before the three of them strided into the diner.

A dog. Teddy hadn’t planned for that.

Leo glanced at him. He stared at the SUV, the corners of his lips twitching as though he wanted to speak. He didn’t make a sound.

Suddenly, he pushed himself away from the wall, walking purposefully towards the SUV with a stern expression on his face. Leo and the Stan twins followed quickly.

“You didn’t say there was a dog,” Stan said, worriedly, lowly.

“That’s because I didn’t know,” Teddy replied. They reached the vehicle, and Teddy pulled a lockpick from his back pocket, peering inside the windows to scope out the situation more accurately before diving in headfirst. “We’re gonna have to work it out.”

“Just tell us what we should be doing,” Leo said, hands in his pockets. Teddy mouthed the words “I’m here” to the window he was glancing in, presumably to Cy.

“Get ready to distract the dog,” Teddy said, rounding the car towards the trunk. He knelt down, stuck the lockpick in the trunk’s keyhole, and got to work.

“How do you distract a dog?” Leo whispered towards Stan and Ford.

Ford shrugged. “Can’t be that different from distracting shape-shifters and gnomes, right?”

“Easy.” Stan crossed his arms, cautiously observing Teddy’s actions. “Get somethin’ that smells like cocaine and hide it somewhere nearby but out of the way. Though, I dunno if this dog is trained to sniff out drugs. Also I don’t have anything that smells like cocaine on me.”

Ford gave him a funny look. “Stanley, what…”

Stan made a dismissive motion. “Tell ya later.”

“We still haven’t figured out how we’re going to—” Leo stopped. Teddy had successfully unlocked the trunk, and he pulled it open steadily. Immediately, there was a dog barking in his face. He backed up slowly, trying to appear unthreatening, but the dog wasn’t having it. The dog, which was incredibly large, leaped out of the trunk and advanced towards Teddy aggressively.

“Guys…” Teddy said out of the corner of his mouth.

Stan waved his arms wildly. “Yo! Over here, ya mangy mutt!”

Leo’s heart jumped into his throat as the dog turned its attention towards them. It growled, trying to decide whether to continue with Teddy or not.

It began to bark again, directing the sound towards the diner.

“Shit,” Teddy swore. “It’s trying to get their attention. We’re fucked if we don’t hurry.”

Without any further comment, Teddy shoved past the dog and climbed into the SUV. The dog bit at his pant leg, ripping it, but Teddy was unfazed.

Instinctively, Leo lunged forward and grabbed the dog by its bright red collar, tugging it away from Teddy. The dog struggled against his grip, but soon enough, both Stan twins came to his assistance. As they pulled, the dog abruptly stopped resisting, and all the leftover force caused the three of them to topple over.

Leo hit the ground hard, a jolt running up his spine. The dog, who had ceased its attempt at attack, was pointedly barking at the trunk of the SUV.

Teddy had cut the binds from Cy’s legs, and was now looking around, frantically trying to plan his course of action.

“What the _hell’s_ goin’ on here?”

A southern voice broke the scene. The tall woman with dark makeup was crossing the parking lot, her companions trailing behind her. Leo glanced around for Booker. He didn’t see her at first, but then her arms wrapped around the torso of the orange-haired woman, dragging her away.

“Spades!” The orange-haired woman exclaimed, reaching her arm out towards the tall one.

“Diamonds, take care of this,” the tall woman, who Leo guessed must’ve been Spades, said to the shorter woman, who must’ve been Diamonds. Diamonds nodded curtly, jogging towards Booker and the orange-haired woman. Leo didn’t have time to worry about them, because Spades had retrieved a gun from somewhere and was pointing it towards him.

“Didn’t expect a guard dog, huh?” Spades said, smirking. “Ain’t the first ones to get caught by surprise. We’re smarter than you monsters tend to think. Now, unless y’all want the police to get involved, you’d better run and hope you wake up with your heads still attached.”

The dog stopped barking, and began prowling in front of Spades protectively. Teddy, who’d managed to remove all of Cy’s bindings, hopped out of the SUV and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

“You’re the goddamn monsters around here!” He shouted, pulling Cy close to him.

“Hey! A little help!” Booker called from across the lot. Ford scrambled to his feet and ran to help her, but as he passed Spades, she took hold of his wrist and pulled him towards her. She wrapped an arm around his chest and arms, effectively pinning him to her. He struggled, but she appeared to be much stronger than she looked, and he remained trapped.

Stan stood up, keeping his eyes trained on Spades. He was _furious_.

“You, Teddy,” Stan said, pointing towards him. “Go help Booker. We’ll deal with this.”

Teddy nodded curtly, rushing off to Booker’s aid with Cy in tow.

Leo stood up as well, unsure of how he should’ve been assisting the situation.

“Let him go,” Stan said, voice level.

“Or what?” Spades taunted, waving her gun around.

“I’ll fucking make you,” Stan answered. He stepped forward, but stopped abruptly. Leo followed his gaze towards Spades and Ford.

Spades had pressed the gun to Ford’s temple, finger lingering over the trigger.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: Cy.

“How ‘bout we raise the stakes?” Spades spoke playfully, as though this was nothing more than a game in her mind. “You two are human, I can tell. Humans allied with vampires—it never ends well, trust me. If y’all flee the scene and leave the monsters with us, I’ll let ya come outta this unscathed. I’d really prefer not to kill any humans tonight unless absolutely necessary, so make your choice.”

Ford mouthed something silently towards Stan, but Leo was unable to catch what it was. Stan remained steady in his footing, and reached towards his back pocket, one shaky hand hovering over his gun.

“You can’t kill him,” Stan said. “He’s human and has lots of family. If you kill him I  _ will _ get the law involved.”

Spades laughed. “Oh, will you, now?” She said. Leo dared not move, worrying that a wrongly placed foot would cause her to pull the trigger. “In the eyes of the law,  _ you _ attacked  _ us _ . Can’t kidnap someone that doesn’t exist. Your story will fall apart the second you try to claim self defense, because what were you defending yourselves against? The trio of women you needlessly attacked in the parking lot of a diner after sundown?”

Stan remained silent. Leo’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, above the heartbeats of everyone else around him. 

Spades held out her hand, the hand holding her gun, and recklessly dropped it to the ground. “I feel pity for you. When the monsters stab you in the back, don’t come cryin’ to us. Still gotta get you outta the way, though. Sorry!”

Frozen to the ground, Leo watched in what seemed like slow-motion as Spades reached to her back, behind the black backpack she wore, and unsheathed a sharp, shiny blade, the handle decorated with dangling phone charms. 

Swiftly, she dragged it across Ford’s stomach. It cut through the fabric of his sweater—and through his skin—without effort.

Leo couldn’t get the world to start moving at a normal speed again. There was noise, he knew that, but all he could bring himself to acknowledge was the red, the blood, spilling onto the roughly paved ground of the parking lot. It was wrong, he knew. Blood was not supposed to exit bodies in this large a quantity or in this manner. He felt numb. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. Why was he thinking about food now? Someone was bleeding and severely injured in front of him! He needed to help!

It smelled good. It didn’t smell like any food he had ever eaten or ever wanted to eat, but the metallic, raw-meat scent was making him feel his hunger. He needed to help, but he needed to remember how to move, first.

There was more noise, different noise. Coming from inside his head. The noise wasn’t part of his thoughts. The noise felt like Booker, vaguely.

_ SLAP! _

He was brought abruptly back to reality by Booker’s hand making contact with his cheek.

“It’s blood!” Booker stated the obvious, staring straight into Leo’s eyes determinedly. “Get the fuck over it!”

Leo took shallow breaths through his mouth. “How...how long was I…”

“Long enough!” Teddy’s voice hit Leo’s ears, frantic and sonorous. “Give me that hoodie, like, five minutes ago!”

Without responding, Leo began taking off the hoodie Ford had lent him earlier. Before he had gotten it fully off of his arms, Booker ripped it away and tossed it towards Teddy.

Without allowing time for Leo to fully assess the situation, Booker grabbed his biceps tightly, leaning towards his face and speaking lowly.

“Listen to me.  _ Listen _ . I know what this is like, and I know you basically feel like you haven’t slept in a week and like you’re on several different kinds of drugs, so you’re pretty out of it, but as soon as you come back to reality, you’re going to fucking hate me, and that’s a  _ guarantee _ . That’s why I’m going to tell you right now that literally  _ all _ the bad shit that’s happened today is  _ my _ fault, okay? Not Teddy’s. Not Cy’s. Not yours.  _ Mine _ . Blame me all you want, but leave them and yourself out of it. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

“Booker, what…” Leo trailed off. Booker had let go of his arms and distanced herself from him in favor of Teddy, Cy, and the Stan twins, who were all clumped in a group low towards the ground.

The Playing Cards, their SUV, and the dog were nowhere to be seen.

How long  _ had _ he been spacing out for?

“What can I do to help? Leo asked, tentatively stepping towards the group. He tried his hardest not to look at the injury, but it seemed to be the focal point and therefore hard to avoid. Teddy, assisted by Stan, was tying the hoodie tightly around Ford’s torso as a temporary solution, but it was already bloodstained.

“Remember where I parked the van?” Teddy asked breathlessly. “Take Cy there so he can drive it over here and we can get Ford back to the motel.”

“Got it,” Leo replied with a curt nod. He gestured for Cy to follow him and began jogging off towards where the van had been parked.

Leo observed Cy in the dim light of the streetlamps as they hurried in silence. His skin was dark, and his dreadlocks were pulled into a messy bun on top of his head. Despite his muscular frame and tall stature, he slouched, making him appear much smaller. Though hard to see in the dark, Leo could discern that his right eye appeared to be a different color from his left.

Leo wanted to say something to break the silence, but he couldn’t think of anything appropriate. He inhaled several times, preparing to speak, but backtracked before he could get a word out.

They climbed into the van, Cy in the driver’s seat and Leo on the floor in the back, driving the few blocks back towards the diner parking lot.

...

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t let you know about the dog, please don’t be mad at me, It wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Leo wished the first words he had heard out of Cy’s mouth had not sounded so distressed, so helpless; but unfortunately, that was the case.

He’d spoken immediately after Teddy sat down in the passenger’s seat, having already assisted Stan and Booker in moving Ford into the back of the van. The superfluous amount of fear behind his voice made Leo flinch even worse than Ford’s pained noises did. It sounded like there was a history of abuse or something similar behind it—and Leo hoped to the high heavens Teddy had not been at the forefront.

“Hey, hey, shh,” Teddy shushed him, placing a gentle hand on his forearm as they drove off. Cy stiffened at the contact. “We can talk later. There’s a severely injured human in here. Humans can’t self heal like us. Focus on driving so we can get back as quickly as possible.”

Though his reaction didn’t  _ seem _ like that of an abuser, Leo still felt he had reason to be wary of Teddy after what he had just heard and seen. He wasn’t going to bring it up for now, as there were more pressing, more immediately life-threatening issues to address, but he locked the concern in the back of his mind with the intent to revisit it later.

Teddy leaned back in his seat, bolting his gaze on Stan. “Put pressure on the injury. The bleeding probably isn’t going to stop, but it’ll help.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Stan said through gritted teeth, frustrated. He and Booker sat Ford up against the back of the driver’s seat, pressing their hands flat against the hoodie covering his wound. Ford dug his nails into his palms, and he seemed to barely register what was going on around him.

“Hey, just trying to help,” Teddy grumbled.

“I’ve seen people survive  _ much _ worse than this,” Stan said darkly. “I don’t doubt he’ll get through it, but I need everyone to do what I say, okay?”

His tone was deathly serious. Leo nodded, swallowing nervously. He had  _ never _ been in a situation like this before, and he felt like he was going to get in the way if he tried to do anything. Meanwhile, the rest of them seemed to know  _ exactly _ what to do, despite having no professional medical experience. It was somewhat concerning.

Teddy raised his eyebrows somewhat condescendingly. “Fine then. What should I be doing?”

“Got somethin’ to write with?” Stan asked.

“I have a phone with a notes app,” Teddy answered.

“I’m gonna list out the stuff we need to take care of this. Write it down,” Stan requested. He waited a moment for Teddy to unlock his phone before he continued, speaking slowly enough to give the vampire time to type. “Pain killers, disinfectant, gauze, medical tape, needle and thread, towels, maybe some sedatives if you can find any, and a new shirt for Stanford.”

“Long-sleeved,” Ford choked out. Stan shot him a disapproving look.

“Whatever you can find is okay,” Stan rebuted. 

_ You look bad _ , a voice suddenly protruded into Leo’s thoughts. Booker’s copper eyes flickered towards him, concerned. It had been her voice.

How was he supposed to reply? Saying it out loud would raise confusion for everyone except them, but he didn’t know how telepathic communication worked. How would he know if she’d heard him?

He stared at the back of her head as she returned her attention to Ford.  _ I’m tired _ , he thought, focusing on her, her voice, her face, her mind. He hoped the thought had gotten to her. Now that he had admitted it, he felt like he wanted to curl up and fall asleep.

The next thought, though the words were not clear, had a coherent message: she was giving him permission to sleep.

And so he did.

**Author's Note:**

> ik ik, theres no canon characters in this chapter, but this is the main setup/exposition chapter so they're arriving soon! like next chapter soon! next chapter thats already written and i just have to proofread it and post it soon!


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